


37 degrees Centigrade

by Cerberusia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Buckets of come, F/M, Gang Rape, Knotting, Ludicrous Amounts of Come, M/M, Multi, Oviposition, Sexual Inexperience, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: Lance gets into sloppy alien trouble.





	37 degrees Centigrade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laylah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/gifts).



It was when they made him put on a blindfold that Lance started to get that sinking, itching feeling that told him things weren't going to go his way.

He stared at it, then at the walls surrounding him and Blue. The hangar was dim and silent - and had no visible exits except the one to the vacuum of space, which he didn't really want to try. He was _supposed_ to be here on something approximating a diplomacy mission, and the total lack of welcoming party was giving him a bad feeling.

He expected the instruction to put on the blindfold to be repeated, but nope, nothing.

"...Uh, hello?" he tried. His own voice bounced back at him in the empty hangar. There was something about it that looked unused, like the front room of a house that no-one visited.

Bereft of anything else to do, short of getting back in Blue and blasting his way out, he picked up the blindfold from where it was floating next to his lion's muzzle. It was a black strip of silky fabric, like something you might find in a sex shop back on Earth. No, Lance, focus. Don't think of sex shops. Focus on the fact that you're going to have to either think up a daring plan or put this blindfold _on_.

Lance looked around. No daring plan presented itself.

...Blindfold it was. He wrapped it around his helmet, considering how to tie it. Double knot? Reef knot? What was the best way to give himself sight but make it look like it was totally covering his eyes? Could he poke some eyeholes?

The ends slid between his fingers and met one another. When Lance tried to take hold of them, he found only a single band, which slid down and completely covered the viewport of his helmet. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find the edges. He couldn't see a thing.

" _Not_ a promising start," he said to the empty hangar, and held onto Blue tightly.

"Paladin of Voltron," said the deep voice that had told him to put on the blindfold, and Lance nearly jumped out of his skin. "Await your escorts."

OK, that sounded more like it. Lance still wasn't sure about the blindfold, but hey, he already knew that they liked their privacy. It couldn't be easy being a rebel Galra faction.

All the warning he got was a displacement of air before his upper arms were taken in a firm grip.

"Oh, _quiznak!_ " Lane yelped. How did they move that silently? How had he not heard them come in? Where _had_ they come from?

His guides answered none of these questions, of course. They simply tugged; and Lance was pulled along in their wake.

They must have gone through some kind of airlock, because Lance recognised the feeling of suction and compression, and he was lowered gently to the floor. They started walking. It didn't feel too prisoner-like: the grip on his arms was firm but gentle, and his escorts were keeping at his pace. So maybe it wasn't going to be _that_ bad. At worst, he could reassure himself that he was only going to be here for three days.

At last, they stopped. Lance had no idea where they were relative to the hangar.

"Welcome," said a deep voice - the same one from the hangar, only now it came from in front of him.

"Uh, hi," said Lance. Time to play nice.

An object was shoved into his hands. The fingers that gripped his for a moment to make sure he wouldn't drop it felt weird, textured like pawpads instead of skin.

"Drink," said the deep voice. The thing in his hands was round and felt like a bowl, so Lance raised it slowly to his mouth as he considered his options. On the one hand: he really didn't want to drink the alien Mystery Minestrone. On the other: he kind of didn't have a way out. On the other...foot: he really, _really_ did not want to drink anything that smelled like _that_.

" _Drink_ ," said the voice.

Lance drank. Stupid garrison training, making him automatically respond to orders snapped out in that tone of voice.

Whatever was in the bowl tasted like - blue. Yeah, 'blue' was the best way to describe it. _Weird._ Maybe it even had been blue. Did they do blue raspberry flavour in space?

"Well, that could have gone a lot worse," said Lance. He'd been kind of expecting it to taste like death, or just kill him on the spot, but there was only a funny aftertaste at the back of his throat. He didn't feel any different. The bowl was taken out of his hands before he could think about using it as an improvised weapon.

"Come." His arms were taken and he was led forwards. Whoever was leading him, they were way taller than him, one on either side, and they had long strides. Lance had to stretch his legs to keep up: don't want to make them think you're reluctant and start dragging.

"So, uh, is the red and yellow in the hangar...significant, or something? Because all the other Galra _I've_ met wear black and purple, like, exclusively, and decorate their ships with it, and now I'm thinking about it that might _not_ just be a fashion statement."

His guides - captors? - said nothing.

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this," Lance confessed to them. Unsurprisingly, they said nothing in return. He really, really wished he could see. He didn't want to try to escape while he didn't know how many of them there were. There could be dozens! Hundreds!

...He really hoped there weren't hundreds.

They didn't shove him about gratuitously, but his guards pulled him along at a brisk pace. Lance had no idea where they were going, beyond 'in a reasonably straight line, probably'. Being blindfolded was completely disorienting. He was very aware of how much bigger than him the guards were and how much strength was in their grip. He felt very small and noodly and human.

He was also starting to feel kind of...warm.

"Hey, so, is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

Silence.

"OK, just me, then." How could you even tell if a Galra was too hot? Presumably the furry ones would sweat through their palms, like dogs...Lance imagined that Commander Sendak guy with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and sniggered. It made him feel a little bit better.

By the time they came to a halt, he wasn't. He was unnerved by the guards' total silence, of course, but more than that, he felt _weird_. He felt prickly-hot and kind of like _he_ wanted to pant. And he had a _raging_ hard-on that, aside from being totally inappropriate, was making it kind of hard to walk.

Now, thinking rationally, it could just be a fear boner. Those were totally a thing, a thing that happened to lots of guys when they got really scared or angry or excited. But Lance knew what those felt like: an awkward, inconvenient, purely physical response. A fear boner didn't feel like _this_ , like hot thick streams of pleasure were running through his body.

...Oh, _shit_. This was what the blue stuff had been meant to do. But why would you give your guest of honour/prisoner an aphrodisiac? What good would that _do_? Make him too horny to negotiate effectively? Come to think of it, Lance might be willing to drive an easier bargain if he could just have a few minutes of privacy...

But he wasn't even _here_ to negotiate. The Blade of Marmora had already done that part: Lance was just the show of good faith. The deal was that in return for an alliance and cooperation with this apparently very well-connected and well-prepared rebel faction, they got a hostage for a few days, to be treated well and returned with no permanent damage. And the Blade of Marmora guys had picked Lance.

A tiny, horrible suspicion began to germinate in his mind as to what the real purpose of the blue drink might be.

The blindfold was pulled off like a bandaid. Light flooded his vision, blinding him, and he flung up his hands. Then he remembered that maybe he shouldn't make sudden movements like that, oops. But nobody turned him into a pincushion, so they must have decided that he wasn't a threat.

His eyes adjusted to the light - Galra liked it at about half what humans did, so the room was ominously dim. It made Lance wonder if maybe they were nocturnal. Or maybe it just suited their nefarious purposes to skulk about in the dark, who knew.

The Galra around him looked like most of the other Galra he'd seen, that weird purple-skinned mix of feline and reptile. These guys were all on the furrier side, with big cat-like ears. They were armoured and hooded similar to the Blade of Marmora, but in reds and yellows rather than black. Apart from the guards who'd brought him from the decompressed hangar, none of them wore boots, revealing paw-like feet with prehensile toes and wicked-looking claws.

They're more primitive, Kolivan had condescended to explain to him. They dress and act in ways approximating those of our homeworld milennia ago, before Zarkon came to power. They are many, of noble blood, and very powerful. We will have their support, if only you will do this one thing for us.

Wouldn't they rather have Keith? Or Shiro? Lance had asked - not to, like, dump either of his teammates in it, but because they'd be a lot more...well, relevant.

But Kolivan had said no. Someone purely human was required, and Pidge and Hunk were both occupied with the Blade of Marmora tech. So Lance it was.

I think you will please them best, he'd said. Now, standing in front of a dozen of them, Lance really hoped so.

"Blue Paladin," said Deep Voice - who was, holy quiznak, _really_ tall. And just generally huge. He was clearly the guy in charge. "You have been given to us as a hostage and sign of goodwill and trust." Lance tried to concentrate on this without wriggling about to make his boner more comfortable. He didn't succeed. Maybe the Galra would just think he needed to pee - but no, they'd given him the stupid blue stuff, so at least Deep Voice definitely knew what was going on.

"We have prepared you," Deep Voice continued, "and you are now in our care. Strip."

He said it so casually that Lance didn't understand at first. Then everything snapped into horrible focus. The Galra he'd thought were glaring were actually _leering_. They wanted to-

"No," he said thickly, praying his boner wasn't obvious. "What the hell? No!"

Deep Voice considered him. Yeah, he could definitely tell Lance had a boner.

"You were given to us as a sign of good faith. Will you renege on the agreement?" He said it as if it didn't matter to him. But Lance, head swivelling right and left to take in the number of Galra currently surrounding him, used his awesome deductive powers and came to the well-reasoned conclusion that a) it would matter a lot to the Blade of Marmora, and b) he was totally boned either way.

If he tried to make a break for it, they'd catch him. Then they might kill him or rape him or whatever, but either way, no alliance. If he _didn't_ try...His dick throbbed. Bad dick, he told it, you're not supposed to get _excited_ at the thought of being gang-raped by Galra soldiers!

That just made it worse. There was, he realised with an awful sinking feeling in his stomach and a throbbing heat at the base of his dick, only one reasonable option. He _hated_ having to be reasonable. There was a better choice, and it was the one that involved him giving up whatever shreds of his dignity remained.

He didn't want to do it. He didn't want a load of alien wing-wong in his ass and face and who knew where else - what _were_ the Galra hiding under their armour anyway? - but he'd volunteered for this mission and he would be damned if he slunk back to the Castle with his tail between his legs and no alliance because he couldn't get over his silly little hangups about submitting to being used as a sex toy by a dozen Galra soldiers.

"Yes! I mean, no to going back on the agreement, yes to..." He made an illustrative hand gesture that he hoped conveyed _letting you gang-rape me in public_.

Apparently the illustrative hand gesture meant the same thing to Galra as it did to humans, because Deep Voice smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Strip," he said.

 _Strip._ Holy shit, this was really happening. He was really going to take off his clothes in the middle of this room and let a bunch of Galra use him like a fleshlight. He couldn't even concentrate on the appropriate feelings of fear because he wanted so badly to come it felt like his dick was going to explode.

He unbuckled his armour and dropped it on the ground next to him. Nobody moved. He was hot, prickly-hot and sweating, so he didn't even feel self-conscious when he unzipped his flight suit with fumbling fingers. The cold air felt amazing when it hit his bare chest with its stiff, swollen red nipples. Lance looked down at them in confusion. They'd never done _that_ before.

He closed his eyes as he finally inched the stretchy flight suit down past his hips and it caught on his boner. _Now_ he felt self-conscious. It didn't seem real that he could be standing nearly naked in a hall full of Galra soldiers with an erection. It was like the start of a bad dream, like the ones where you come late to an exam you haven't prepared for in your underwear.

Looking at the eager, predatory faces of the Galra surrounding him, Lance could envision a new addition to the dream: getting railed over the desk by the teacher proctoring the exam. His dick throbbed obviously between his legs, standing out stiff from his body, and he felt the eyes of a dozen Galra give him the old up-down.

"So who goes first?" he asked the assembled company. "Is there, like, a pecking order for who gets the first crack at my virgin ass?" _Shit, didn't mean to say that._ The mention of his complete novicehood in the arcane arts of anal sex had just slipped out. He didn't think he was imagining that the Galra in front of him looked more excited.

"Great. I'm fresh meat. _Again._ " And this was going to make the Garrison hazing look like a cakewalk. At least he'd never had to run the gauntlet (set up in the B-block showers) with a raging hard-on. He seriously had to do something about that soon, or else he could upgrade his humiliation from 'totally naked with a boner in front of a load of Galra' into 'jacking it in front of a bunch of Galra'. What had been _in_ that blue drink?

Deep Voice waved his hand. Lance's shoulders were seized and he was suddenly sprawled on the cold steel floor. He automatically started pushing himself back onto his knees, ready to spring - then he remembered that he couldn't fight back, and he probably shouldn't make any sudden movements.

He froze in that position, stuck awkwardly between lying prostrate and kneeling. Well, it was presumably how the Galra wanted him anyway, more or less. He refused to stick his ass in the air of his own free will. If they wanted this ass, they could come and _get_ it.

His burning dick was very close to the cold, smooth floor. If he just widened his legs and let himself slowly sink down again...Oh man, yeah, that was it. The hard deck felt amazing when he rubbed his stiff dick on it, trapping it between his body and the steel. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he was humping the floor like an animal in front of a load of enemies and they must be laughing at him, but he couldn't make himself stop. It felt so _good_ , and he could feel his dick leaving wet smears on the metal. Just a little more -

A Galra's foot rolled him over onto his back, flipping him like a turtle. Lance automatically drew up his knees, feeling muscle memory urge him to throw himself forward off the floor - but he subsided at the feel of that clawed foot on his throat. Embarrassingly, his hips thrust forward, making his erection bounce. Y'know, just in case anyone _hadn't_ noticed it. Oh, _God,_ he wanted to come.

He couldn't see Deep Voice from his position on the floor, but the boot was taken off his throat and one Galra leaned down and hauled him easily to his knees.

"Thanks, buddy," Lance told him. He was feeling light-headed.

Then the Galra opened the front of his pants, and took out an _enormous_ hard-on. It was kind of shaped like a human dick, but twice the size, bright red-purple, and shiny-wet all down its length. He held the bulbous head an inch from Lance's lips. The implication was obvious.

"Uh, actually, no thanks," said Lance. It smelled salty, like a human's. Not that Lance, you know, went round sniffing a lot of other guys' dicks, but he felt pretty qualified to make that assessment from his limited sample size.

The Galra pushed the wet head against Lance's mouth. Apparently he didn't get a choice. Holy shit, how was he going to fit that _in his mouth?_

Slowly, the Galra's hard-on breached his lips. Lance felt his mouth stretch wider and wider as the thick cock slid further into his mouth. It tasted as salty as it smelled, but also somehow sweet. It wasn't even disgusting, it was just _weird_. Hooooly shit, he was sucking off an alien.

He managed about three inches of turgid dick before the head bumped the roof of his mouth. That was better than he'd thought he'd do, given that he'd assumed it just wouldn't fit in his mouth at all. But now it was in, he couldn't do anything: his tongue was pressed against the bottom of his mouth while the dick filled it completely. His teeth were definitely digging into it, but the Galra didn't seem to care.

"Suck," said the Galra, whom Lance mentally christened Jawbreaker. His yellow eyes were narrow, and Lance didn't know whether that was good or bad. _Could_ he even suck this thing? He tried, and found that he could exert a limited amount of suction on the behemoth. Licking it or anything was out of the question, though: it was just too big.

Jawbreaker fisted his claws in Lance's hair and made a little noise. It sounded like - no, it _was_ a purr. Lance thought longingly of Alfonso the lazy mackerel tabby back home, who'd had the knack of barging into his room demanding cuddles _right_ when the melodramatic telenovela he swore he didn't watch was having a very important climactic revelation. But he couldn't think about his cat with the head of Jawbreaker's huge dick pulsing in his mouth and drooling out a constant thin stream of precome.

Something came to rest over his hard dick, pressing it down against the cold floor. After a shuddering moment of _yes yes touch it yes_ , Lance realised it was Jawbreaker's foot. His foot with long, prehensile toes.

"Fuck," he said around Jawbreaker's cock. It came out as a wordless moan. He couldn't feel anything but the ache in his jaw and the waves of bliss shooting through his belly as Jawbreaker's foot massaged his dick, and he frantically jerked his hips back and forth as the pleasure spiralled higher and higher. His vision whited out, stars swam before his eyes, the blood rushed in his ears -

Jawbreaker took away his foot.

" _Hnnnngh!_ " said Lance, staring beseechingly up into Jawbreaker's face. He got another not-nice smile in response.

"Wait," he said mildly. Then he pulled Lance off his dick by the hair and pushed him carelessly towards the floor again. Lance caught sight of his dick, how seemingly even huger and glistening with Lance's saliva, and he knew what was going to happen even before Jawbreaker got him on his knees with his ass in the air.

Big, long-fingered hands tipped with claws seized his ass.The slick head of Jawbreaker's dick pressed against his asshole, huge and invasive. Lance kept his eyes on the floor: he didn't want to see the other Galra watching his total humiliation.

"No," he said, quietly, to the floor. It went unheard. He hated that he couldn't even have the dignity of trying to get away, of putting up a fight.

Relatively speaking, Jawbreaker was gentle: he could have just shoved it right in, but he didn't. He took it slowly, so Lance felt the entirety of his cock slide in, inch by agonising inch, as it mercilessly opened him up. It punched sounds out of him, gasps and low pained moans, as the massive dick threatened to split him in two. Surely, Lance thought fuzzily, it wouldn't all fit inside him. It just wouldn't fit. They'd all have to give up and go home.

"Please," he said, "no, please." He might as well have said nothing. More of Jawbreaker's massive dick penetrated him. It felt like it was going all the way into his stomach, like if he looked down there would be a bulge in his belly as it rearranged his internal organs. His entirely lower body was on fire with sweating, aching pain. The huge alien penis filled him up completely.

He heard himself making small, high-pitched noises in the back of his throat. He couldn't stop himself. He couldn't even close his gaping mouth or raise his head or open his wet eyes - when had he shut them? But even through the haze of pain, he could feel his own dick throbbing between his legs, hot and stiff and perverse. He wanted to come. He _had_ to come.

Jawbreaker's furry pelvis pressed against his buttocks. It was all the way in now; there was no more. Which was good, because Lance felt like the head of Jawbreaker's dick was about to come out of his mouth. He bent his back a little, trying to relieve the ache, trying to breathe, and panted against the cool floor, his forehead resting on his crossed hands. They were wet with tears. This was fine. It was bearable.

The pressure lessened for one blessed moment. Lance sucked in a breath. Then Jawbreaker's hips snapped forward, and Lance _howled_.

Jawbreaker set up a rhythm of short, undulating thrusts, jolting Lance back and forth with every one. It felt like he was being hit over and over, but instead of pain there was only intimate violation mixed with the horrible liquid spark of pleasure, racing through his stomach and thighs.

Every thrust stroked him inside, thudding against something Lance hadn't known was in him that made his cock jerk and drool on the metal floor. His belly was tight with nausea and pleasure. He had to open his mouth to let his whimpers escape because he was afraid he might bite his tongue. Jawbreaker's hands on his hips felt like steel clamps.

He was going to come. He _was_ going to come, he couldn't stop it, all over the floor while being raped by a Galra revolutionary. He could feel the pressure building, everything going shuddery-tight-hot, the pain vanishing as all the thrusts of Jawbreaker's huge penis stimulated him inside _just right_ -

He came without anything touching his dick, jerking and spurting between his spread knees as Jawbreaker reamed his ass, eyes rolling back. Waves of agonising bliss filled his shuddering body, pulsed through his dick as he emptied himself.

They didn't go away. He felt hot and loose and so horny he might burst into flames. Jawbreaker's cock slid in and out of him easily, until he suddenly stiffened and groaned, hands threatening to crush Lance's pelvis. Lance moaned too when he felt hot semen spurting into him. It went on for long, long seconds, half a minute or more, filling him up like a firehose.

That's disgusting, Lance thought. He's left stuff inside me. But he couldn't grasp hold of that disgust, even when Jawbreaker withdrew and he felt Galra come oozing down his thighs.

Another Galra seized Lance's hips, and another erection, just as long and thick, slid into him. Jawbreaker's come made the way slick and easy, and Lance's whole body shuddered in delight as the bulbous head of his dick scraped along his inner walls. Then the new Galra started pounding away, and Lance's mind dissolved as all feeling went to his dick. He distantly realised that he was hard again; or maybe he'd never gone soft.

A clawed hand pulled his head up by the hair, holding him in place while the rest of his body was rocked back and forth by the force of New Guy's thrusts. The Galra in front of him had a paler stripe down his forehead and nose like a horse's blaze, and this close Lance could see the bulge of his erection distending the front of his pants.

"Yeah, he's under," the Galra said, grinning. Lance wished he could see where he was looking. He pulled Lance up so he was on his hands and knees, and with his free hand he took out his hard-on and held it to Lance's open mouth. Lance could smell it, taste it, salty-sweet and musky. He didn't want to open his mouth. He wasn't going to open his mouth.

Blaze slid his dick into Lance's mouth without resistance. Precome ran down Lance's throat as he started to rock his hips back and forth. He didn't tell Lance to suck, which was good because he couldn't have done. The smell and taste of the Galra's sex organs filled all his senses.

New Guy moaned and came, filling Lance with more jizz, thick and slimy. Yes, Lance thought as he withdrew, get out, get out - but his dick was throbbing and his balls were drawn up and all he could do was moan around another fat cock in his mouth as Blaze replaced New Guy in plowing his ass, and at the first hard thrust, stimulated nerves firing, everything lighting up, he came again.

He realised when Blaze was going to come - he knew the signs now, and hated that he knew - but something was different. There was something on his dick, like another, bigger part of his dick, and he was trying to push it _inside_ Lance.

Lance howled around the cock in his mouth, but it only came out like a groan. _No,_ he tried to say, _no, get it out!_ It couldn't _possibly_ fit inside him, it would _break_ him. But Blaze was making breathless sounds behind him and he was thrusting harder, pushing harder, and something the size of a baseball was breaching his hole and going _in_ -

It popped in, Blaze went still, and Lance stopped thinking. The round thing was pressing something inside him and Blaze was coming, coming so much, and Lance was coming too and he couldn't stop coming, the tie was pushing him higher and higher and the sweet shaking rush of orgasm kept sweeping through him.

After some time, the knot - Lance had realised what it was now, had remembered seeing dogs mating in the street - deflated and Blaze's dick slipped out. Lance collapsed, and the next Galra had to haul him back up by the hips so he could keep getting fucked at both ends. He lost time: his body was limp, unresponsive, and two more Galra reamed his mouth then ass like they were trying to meet in the middle. Everything sent signals straight to his dick.

The next dick that was shoved in his mouth, however, was different. It wasn't a hard column of flesh, Lance realised: it was a tube with an X-shaped slit. He tried to focus on the Galra it belonged to, but his eyes were blurred with tears. At least it was smaller that the others. The pre-come tasted different too: it was sweeter.

Tube Dick quickly pulled Lance off by the hair, like he was impatient, and when he shoved the organ up his ass, he fucked Lance vigorously, so vigorously that he nearly choked on the next guy's dick - but only for a minute. Then he went totally still.

Dimly, Lance thought: I have a bad feeling about this.

Pressure against his ass again. Another knot? No, wrong shape - and it was _moving_. Lance moaned and tried weakly to move away as it pressed against his rim. It was bigger than Blaze's knot, huge and unyielding, and Tube Dick gripped his hips tight enough to bruise and forced him to hold still when he tried to wriggle forwards to escape the huge, unrelenting pressure.

Lance groaned and cried around the Galra dick in his mouth, but it was no use. His ass stretched further and further to accomodate it, until he was sure it would tear and slowly, slowly forced its way through. Tube Dick moaned in his ear as the thing moved down the length of his dick, inch by inch, until it finally came out the head to rest in Lance's ass, huge and hard, and he felt like he was going to pass out from sheer sensation.

The Galra fucking his mouth pulled him off his dick, and let him drop. Lance rested his cheek against the cool floor and panted, feeling heavy and swollen. The thing, he realised, was ovoid. Funny, he thought, it's like a big egg.

There was another one coming down the tube. Shit, he thought, that _is_ an egg. A egg was stretching his ass, resting inside him with all that semen. They were _impregnating_ him. He started weakly thrashing again, so weakly that his assailants didn't even notice. He could feel his hard dick leaking pre-come onto the floor.

Tube Guy - no, he realised, Tube _Girl_ \- moaned again in his ear as the second egg pushed its way down her ovipositor and into his ass, slow and inexorable. When it was resting with its mate inside him, she carefully withdrew, leaving Lance to shudder on the floor, full and overwhelmed. The eggs were pressing on something inside him, the same thing the massive Galra dicks had, and he was seriously going to come _any moment_.

He heard heavy breathing above him, and he was suddenly rolled over onto his back. The Galra who'd been fucking his mouth was jacking his massive red dick and groaning, and Lance got a close-up view of the way his piss-slit flared as streams of come came shooting out to spatter all over him. He came like a fountain, gushing and spraying, and Lance had to close his eyes because being turned over had jolted the eggs in his ass and he felt his cock go stiff and he came too, dribbling semen on his belly that was quickly covered in Galra spunk.

It was _disgusting_. He'd been hosed down with Galra come and now the Galra in question was dribbling the last of his come onto Lance's face from his half-hard dick. But Lance felt hot inside, hot and swollen and eager. The eggs shifted inside him, pressing on sensitive parts, filling him up even better than the Galra cocks had. He could feel semen oozing out of his ass and down his inner thighs in thick streams. He wanted it all out, but all his instincts told him he wanted to keep it _in_. Inside him, where it was soft and warm...

"Please," he heard himself say, "please!" He spread his legs further, his stiff dick swaying between his thighs. His balls were tight and throbbing. " _Please!_ "

He felt a murmur go through the assembled Galra. Then somebody stepped forward and big, clawed hands grasped his hips.

"Good boy," rumbled Deep Voice. "You'll make _such_ a good brooder."

 _Brooder_ \- something in the back of Lance's brain woke up at that, something that knew exactly what that meant and what was going to happen. Then Deep Voice's cock slid into Lance alongside the eggs, and he stopped thinking at all.

"Shh, shh," said Deep Voice when he cried out and clawed at the floor. "Just a few hours, and the eggs will be warm enough and we'll get it all out of you." But Lance didn't hear the words, only the low, soothing tone. His dick ached and jerked and spat as Deep Voice ploughed into him, thrusting in and out of his ass and making the eggs shift inside him. He was being touched everywhere inside, filled up totally, and when he felt the swell of Deep Voice's knot starting to open up his asss he howled, came in long, dry, shaking pulses, and mercifully passed out.


End file.
